I wanted to share some memories that pertain to art, drawing, and school. There are a few key memories that stand out to me very clearly.
Let me first say that I've had a passionate hate for school for a very long time. Growing up there were few times I enjoyed the idea or reality of school and having to go to this place to learn about things I wasn't interested in. I was never bad at school, I was almost always in Honor or Advanced Placement Classes, but good grades don't make you enjoy school.
My first memory of school was at a place called the Rainbow Learning Center, a private daycare and kindergarten near my grandparent's house. I remember vividly walking in with my parents and with my backpack and blue Aladdin brand lunch box, I think it had Mickey Mouse on the front. Growing up I've always been shy and hated meeting new people and strangers. I didn't even like seeing my own relatives when being reintroduced to them on various holidays.
Okay, back to where I was, my parents had walked me into this room where some kids where sitting lined up on one of those cafeteria tables that folds up so it can be pushed to the side. They sat next to me for a while but at a certain point they told me they were going to have to go to work. At that moment I realized I was being left at this place I did not know and wouldn't see my parents until who knows when. I remember crying and not wanting to talk to anyone. I know they left and at one point I was able to relax and I moved over to a TV they had on in the mornings with the other kids.
At this point in my life art and drawing were things I did but didn't talk about, something everyone does, like playing make believe.
I eventually warmed up to kindergarten and made friends, like everyone does. The next few years I'll skip over, just know that I don't remember much of 1st grade, and my first 2nd grade, I repeated 2nd grade because I have a birthday in late August which means that I am either the youngest in my class or the oldest.
My second 2nd grade is the year that things started changing. Firstly, I liked my 2nd grade teacher, she was very kind and I remember her fondly, Mrs. Vargo. Secondly, this was the year that a girl in my class came over to me and asked, "Can you come over here and judge our contest, we want to see who can draw the best." I was suspicious of her intentions and asked her, "Why do you want me to decide?"
"Well you're good at drawing."
